


Rapture In The Dark

by DRHPaints



Category: American (US) Actor RPF, Bill Hader - Fandom, Bill Hader RPF, Saturday Night Live, Saturday Night Live RPF, US Comedians RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Fingering, Anxiety Disorder, Biting, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Headaches & Migraines, Human/Vampire Relationship, M/M, Menstrual Oral, Menstrual Sex, Oral Sex, Other, Saturday Night Live References, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Vampire Sex, Vampire Turning, Vampires, vampire!Bill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:47:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26574748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DRHPaints/pseuds/DRHPaints
Summary: When Bill is knocked out during an apparently botched mugging by three men while walking home after taping an episode of SNL, he and his transmasc boyfriend Elliot are just glad he’s safe. But over the next week, Bill finds himself unreasonably exhausted, migraines and anxiety worsening like never before. It isn’t until after the following Saturday’s show, fangs sinking into Elliot’s neck, that Bill discovers the true nature of the attack.
Relationships: Bill Hader/Original Transmasculine Character
Kudos: 4





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by phantomofthegallifreyanopera. Hope you enjoy, friend!
> 
> For those who are curious, the title is from a lyric in the song ‘BITE’ by Troye Sivan. An appropriate tune, and also sexy as hell.

Sighing with relief, Bill ran a hand through his longish chestnut hair as he stepped into the crisp autumn New York night. In his second year at  _ Saturday Night Live,  _ Bill just finished taping a live show and despite having several solid performances under his belt, his anxiety was as unruly as when he first began. Strolling through the streets to the subway, Bill picked apart the night’s sketches, mind distracted with doubts.

“Hey.” Turning, Bill saw three hovering men. Bill blinked, thinking he must be exhausted from taping as the men seemed somehow to be a part of the shadows surrounding them as they advanced. Holding up his hands, Bill took a step back, coming up against the unforgiving wall of a building.

“Hey guys, I don’t want any trouble.” Bill shook his head. “If...if you want money, or whatever. You can have my wallet.” Rifling in his back pocket, Bill held it in his outstretched hand, swallowing. “Just take it.”

The rightmost man, thin lips spreading into a wicked smile over his pale face, slowly shook his head. “Oh, we don’t want your money.”

Eyes wide, Bill glanced up and down the street, but somehow the New York road was impossibly empty. Deciding to make a dash for it, Bill made it about three strides before the arm of the man on the left struck out with terrifying speed, snatching his hoodie and dragging Bill backward. Yelling, he struck out with his elbow, but something heavy hit Bill over the head and then all was darkness.

***

Groaning, Bill blinked awake, bleary eyes trying to take in his surroundings.

“Mr. Hader?” A woman’s voice radiated from his shoulder and frowning, Bill pulled his head back in an attempt to bring her into focus. “Mr. Hader, you’re in the hospital.” 

Seeing a short, middle aged nurse standing before him, Bill looked down at the hospital bed. Swallowing, Bill discovered his throat was incredibly dry. “What...what happened?” He croaked.

“Well…” Tipping her head, she blinked. “We don’t really know. Someone found you lying in the street, unconscious. As far as we can tell, you have a concussion and a strange cut on your neck, but otherwise you seem to be alright.”

Images slowly floating back into his mind, Bill lifted the covers and glanced at himself.  _ Well, my clothes are all still on, so at least nothing like that happened.  _ Sighing in relief, Bill fingered the bandage at his throat, spot tender. “Okay, so…” Swallowing again, Bill shifted on the bed. “When can I go home?”

“The doctor wants to keep you overnight for observation, but as long as you’re stable, you should be fine for discharge tomorrow.”

Nodding, Bill settled back on the pillow. “Okay. Thank you.” 

“Is there anyone you would like us to call?” She asked.

Nodding, Bill looked around. “Yeah, my boyfriend. His number is in my phone.”

“Alright, I’ll go get it from your possessions.” Starting to leave, Bill caught the nurses attention. “Hey, wait.” She turned around. “Did...did I have my wallet when I came in?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “That’s how we got your name and insurance information.” Crossing her arms, she shook her head. “You know, it’s strange. I can’t say I’ve seen an attack like this before. I don’t understand why they would knock you out like that and leave your money behind.”

Shrugging, Bill lifted his hands. “Me neither.”

Returning with his phone, Bill turned it on and to no surprise, there were seven missed calls from Elliot and at least a dozen worried texts. Dialing, he lifted the phone to his ear and he heard Elliot’s familiar husky voice answer after less than half a ring. “Bill? Oh my goodness, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you. Where are you? You were supposed to be home hours ago!”

Smiling at his concern, Bill cleared his throat, wishing he’d asked the nurse for some water. “Elliot...I...I’m in the hospital.”

_ “What?!”  _ His exasperated voice gasped over the line. “Holy shit, Bill, are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m fine.” He nodded even though he knew Elliot couldn’t see him. “Just got a bump on the head, I’ll be alright.”

Voice panicked, Elliot responded. “Okay, which hospital? I’m coming right now.”

“Um…” Waving to the nurse, she jogged over and Bill held the phone to his chest. “Where am I?”

“Bellevue.” She nodded. “Room 221.”

Repeating the information back to Bill, Elliot reassured him he was on his way, saying goodbye. Bill received some water and ice chips, and it wasn’t long before Elliot’s flustered face came bursting through the door, pushing his wave of sandy hair back from his soft face as he ran to Bill’s side. 

“Bill!” Cupping his sharp jaw, Elliot’s emerald eyes were concerned as his hands danced over Bill’s chest. “Are you alright? What...what happened?”

Shrugging, Bill lifted his hands. “I don’t really know. These three guys cornered me and just...just knocked me over the head for some reason.”

“Fuck Bill.” Elliot shook his head, threading Bill’s silky dark hair over his joined ear as he sat down. “Did they rob you?”

“No.” Bill lifted a shoulder. “Isn’t that odd? The nurse said I had my wallet when I came in.”

“Bill, they didn’t…” Leaning in, Elliot brought a trembling hand to his mouth. “They didn’t touch you or anything, did they?”

Shaking his head, Bill interlaced his hand with Elliot’s. “No, no I don’t think so. I had all my clothes on when I came in, too.”

“Oh thank goodness.” Hand to his chest, Elliot released a deep sigh, eyes falling shut. “Well…” He blinked. “What the fuck, then?”

“No idea.” Bill raised his hands in exasperation. “Oh, the nurse did say I had some kind of injury on my neck, too.” Craning his head, Bill showed off his bandage and Elliot peered closely.

“Strange.” He shook his head. “Well, I’m so glad you’re safe now, Bill. That must’ve been really scary. Are you alright?”

Squeezing Bill’s hand, he grinned back at Elliot. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Thanks, El.”

Shaking his head, Elliot sat back in the chair. “You should take cabs from now on. I don’t like the idea of you riding the subway so late at night.”

“Aw, it’s sweet that you worry about me.” Resting on the pillow, Bill trailed his fingers over the almost invisibly light hair on Elliot’s forearm.

“Obviously I have reason to.” Gesturing around the hospital, Elliot’s eyes were wide. “Seriously…” Bending forward, he polished one of Bill’s prominent cheekbones with his thumb. “If anything happened to you, I…”

Seeing he was getting upset, Bill gathered Elliot to him. “Hey now, hey…” Kissing his forehead, he played with Elliot’s sandy hair. “I’m fine, alright? I’m right here.”

Nodding, Elliot gave Bill a brief kiss, rubbing his chest before sitting back down. Just then the nurse returned. “I’m sorry, sir. I wanted to give you a chance to check in, but visiting hours are over, so I’ll have to ask you to wrap up.”

“Oh, I’m staying.” Elliot said simply, squeezing Bill’s hand.

Glancing between them, the nurse was taken aback. “Sir, I’m sorry, we don’t typically allow visitors past seven o’clock.”

Gritting his teeth, Elliot’s nose flared and Bill saw his green eyes turn to pools of fire as he unflinchingly stared the woman down. “I. Am. Not. Going. Anywhere.”

Shifting her weight, the nurse fidgeted for a moment, then nodded. “Al-alright. Let me know if you need anything.” She responded timidly before slipping away.

“You really don’t need to stay…” Bill blinked over at him.

Furrowing his brow, Elliot squeezed Bill’s arm. “What? Of course I do. You think I’m going to be able to go home and sleep knowing you’re lying here in a hospital. No, fuck that, Bill. I’ll be right here. You just try to rest now.”

Grinning, Bill nodded and as he drifted he thought over his relationship with Elliot. One of the writers at SNL, they hit it off immediately, Elliot warm and welcoming to Bill’s terrified demeanor when he first came on the show. After they expressed interest in one another, stumbling upon each other’s lips after writing into the dark hours one night, Bill asked Elliot to dinner and it was 3 a.m. over a patty melt at a 24 hour diner that he nervously told Bill he was trans, staring at his hands and expecting rejection. Though surprised, Bill didn’t mind at all, and they started dating, but kept things as quiet as they could, knowing how rumors could fly among their fellow coworkers.

But once his first season drew to a close, Bill and Elliot had to admit there was something real between them. And so, disclosing their relationship to Lorne and HR, they went public and it wasn’t nearly as bad as they thought. Sure, some of the others would tease them from time to time, particularly if either one of them made the mistake of spending too much time in the other’s office with the door closed, but overall everyone was accepting. During the summer break, Bill decided he had enough of living out of his shoulder bag and schlepping back and forth on the subway, and, asking Elliot to move in with him, he gladly accepted.

A few months into living together, things were going well. The insane hours of the show meant they rarely saw the interior of their quaint two bedroom apartment, but Elliot and Bill developed a pleasant symbiosis. Hopeless in the kitchen, Bill enjoyed the various culinary concoctions Elliot whipped up, and he was more than happy to do his share of housework in return. But of course, Bill and Elliot found the most advantageous part of sharing a home to be that time spent in cabs, subways, and walking through New York could instead be dedicated to tearing into one another hungrily any and every chance they got.

Waking early the next morning, Bill looked around and saw Elliot, slumped in the chair, fingers inches from Bill’s as his mouth hung open and Bill giggled. Doing his best not to disturb him, it proved worthless as a nurse entered moments later to take Bill’s vitals, Elliot snorting himself awake and blinking.

“How do you feel?” He stroked Bill’s arm.

“Fine.” Bill shrugged. “Tired still, but alright.”

Elliot nodded, and with a visit from a doctor, a nurse, and a social worker, Bill and Elliot left the hospital, discharge paperwork in hand. Arriving at home wearier than he thought, Bill collapsed on the bed in all of his clothes, groaning.

“Here.” Elliot rolled him over, pulling off Bill’s jeans and lifting his broad upper body to unzip and remove his hoodie. “There, that should be more comfortable. Now, go to sleep, Bill.” He scrunched his fingers in Bill’s dark hair.

“Mmkay thank you.” Bill muttered into the pillow, and moments later he was gone. When his eyes fluttered open it was nighttime and he shuffled out to the living room, scratching his little belly and yawning.

“What time is it?” Curling up to Elliot on the couch, Bill blinked.

“Almost nine.” Elliot squeezed his thigh. “You slept all day. Are you feeling okay?”

Shrugging, Bill draped an arm around him. “Yeah, I think so.”

“You must be hungry.” Elliot patted his wrist, extricating himself before standing. “I’ll fix you something.”

“Thanks, El.” If he was honest, the last thing on Bill’s mind was food, but aside from a paltry hospital breakfast early that morning he had nothing all day, so he figured he should at least try to eat. Serving him a plate laden with a large slice of vegetable lasagna, Bill carved off a corner, lifting it to his mouth. But the instant it touched his tongue, an acrid taste grew in the back of his throat and Bill grimaced, setting the plate down.

“Sorry, I...I guess I’m not very hungry.” Forcing himself to swallow, Bill shook his head.

“But…” Elliot frowned. “You love my lasagna. It’s one of your favorites.”

“Yeah, I don’t know.” Bill shrugged. “Maybe I’m getting sick or something.”

Narrowing his eyes at him, Elliot combed back his hair. “Yeah, actually, you don’t look so good, Bill…”

“Wow, thanks a lot, El.” Bill smirked, rolling his eyes.

Chuckling, Elliot nudged him with a shoulder. “Aw, come on. You know what I mean. Of course I always think you’re sexy.” He winked. “But you look kind of, I don’t know, pale or something.”

“I’m always pale.” Bill held up his hands.

“Yeah…” Elliot peered at him closely. “But it’s worse today, somehow. Maybe...maybe you should see a doctor.”

Shaking his head, Bill rubbed Elliot’s arm. “Nah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Crawling into bed after watching some TV, Elliot scooted in next to Bill, hand finding his waist as he pressed forward to capture his light pink lips. But after a few moments of their mouths moving together, Bill broke away. “Sorry, I...I’m just exhausted. Do you mind if we just go to sleep?”

“Not at all, but…” Elliot combed back his hair. ”Bill, you slept all day. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah.” Bill’s head nodded on the pillow. “I think I just need to recharge. I should be fine tomorrow.”

But as Bill woke to the sounds of Elliot showering, he found he had to drag himself out of bed, limbs heavy as he went to join him in the bathroom. Water running, Bill shed his clothes and peered at himself in the mirror, deciding to peek beneath the bandage on his neck.

“What the fuck?” He murmured softly. Two irregularly shaped scabs, almost completely healed over, looked back at him. Blinking curiously, Bill threw the tape and gauze away and pulled back the curtain to join Elliot.

“Good morning.” Elliot smiled, wiping water out of his eyes.

“Morning.” Bill yawned.

Catching sight of his injury, Elliot raised a hand. “Whoa, what the fuck did they do to you, Bill?”

“Right?” Bill shook his head. “I have no idea.” Switching spots with him, Bill hung his head under the cascading stream, eyes falling closed as he leaned against the shower wall. “Fuck, I’m so tired…” He muttered, hand slapping lazily over the shampoo.

Massaging his back, Elliot frowned. “Bill, do you…do you think they maybe gave you drugs or something? The guys who attacked you?”

“I don’t know, the paperwork from the hospital said there wasn’t anything in my system.” Scrubbing his scalp, Bill scrunched his face.

“But there’s stuff that doesn’t show up in those kinds of things, right?” Elliot’s worried face peered up at him.

“Maybe, but I really think it’s okay.” Rinsing his hair, Bill squeezed Elliot’s shoulder. “Probably just got a cold coming on or something.” Chewing his lip, Elliot nodded and they got ready for work. 

Making it through the pitch meeting, Bill tossed out a line of bullshit for the host, Hugh Laurie, but his head was hazy as he shuffled back down the hall and knocked lightly on Elliot’s door before entering. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Elliot smiled.

“So, I got nothing this week.” Bill shook his head in defeat, flopping down on the couch.

Squeezing his knee, Elliot leaned over. “You want to work on a sketch together, then?” They tried not to do so too regularly, as the teasing was endless when they did, but Bill was desperate. 

“Yeah, thanks.” As Elliot outlined a sketch for Laurie about a bickering Frankenstein and Dracula, Bill gave monosyllabic responses as he drifted, and eventually Elliot gave up, allowing Bill to pass out on his couch as he typed up the script.

Hand shaking his shoulder, Bill sniffed and looked around. “Bill.” Elliot glanced down at him, mouth a line of concern. “I’m all done. Let’s go home.”

Darkness had fallen and Bill rubbed the heel of his hand into his eye. “Shit, how long was I out?”

“It’s...it’s almost ten, Bill. You slept all day again.” Swallowing, Elliot placed a hand at Bill’s lower back as he rose and they left his office. “I really think you should go to the doctor, Bill.”

Suppressing a yawn, Bill nodded. “Yeah. Maybe.” 

Back at home, Bill laid on the couch, fighting to keep his eyes open as Elliot flitted about the kitchen. Slumber was starting to claim him once more when suddenly a tantalizing smell invaded his nostrils, and for the first rime in days, Bill was alert as he stood and padded his way toward the kitchen.

“Hey…” Wrapping his arms around Elliot’s waist from behind, Bill peered over his shoulder. “What are you making?”

”Pork chops.” Elliot chirped, slapping the meat into the sizzling pan. Watching the pink flesh turn brown under Elliot’s practiced hand, Bill’s mouth began to fill with saliva.

“Could…” He swallowed, blinking. “Could you leave mine rare?”

Turning to him, Elliot made a face. “Bill...it’s pork. You can’t eat it rare, you could get sick.”

“Oh.” Bill nodded, unable to take his eyes away from the sputtering meat. “Right. Yeah.”

Patting his cheek, Elliot chuckled. “You goof.”

Dipping in to kiss Elliot’s neck, Bill sensed the throb of his pulse beneath his lips. Unable to explain why exactly, perhaps it was the idea that his touch might excite Elliot, but Bill’s cock twitched insistently under the confines of his jeans and he found his hands trailing to Elliot’s ass, kneading his flesh as he pressed him forward into the stove.

“Whoa, hey there.” Elliot chuckled, hooking his arm back to play with Bill’s hair. “After dinner, okay? You didn’t eat all day.”

Dropping his hands, Bill nodded. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds good.” Eyeing the pork chops again, Bill swallowed. “Hey, if I, um...pick up some steaks, would you make them this week?”

“Sure.” Elliot smiled. “No problem.”

Sitting down to the meal, as soon as Bill got a piece of meat into his mouth he groaned in appreciation, sucking it clean of the juices. “Ah fuck!” He winced.

“What?” Elliot looked up at him.

“Nothing.” Bill lifted a hand to his mouth, shaking his head. “Just bit my tongue.”

“Aw.” Elliot frowned.

Finishing, Bill insisted on cleaning up and after took Elliot by the hand, leading him to the bedroom. Crawling into bed, Bill fused their mouths together, hips notching between Elliot’s spread legs and enjoying the warmth as Elliot's hands wound into his hair and reached down to knead his little ass. Hand creeping between Elliot’s thighs, Bill began tracing his fingers between his slickness, dancing over Elliot’s clit and eliciting soft moans.

But after a few minutes, Elliot rocking into his hand and clutching his vast shoulder, Bill was concerned. He wasn’t getting hard. Despite his earlier interest, it was as if there was a weight settled over his body that he couldn’t shake and Bill didn’t understand it. Never having this problem before, Bill grew frustrated as his fingers sped over Elliot, whose arm wedged between them, palming his soft cock.

Shaking his head, Bill shifted his hips away. “Sorry, I...I don’t know what’s going on.”

Elliot traced his lower lip. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

Sighing, Bill rubbed Elliot’s hip. “It’s annoying though. I really want to fuck you.”

Chuckling, Elliot pressed a kiss to his temple. “It’s fine, Bill. We’ll do it when you’re feeling better.”

Rolling Elliot back, Bill shook his head. “I can still take care of you, at least.”

“I really don’t mind waiting until you’re back on your feet.” Elliot smiled, but Bill was insistent, lowering himself on the mattress. Peeling away Elliot’s boxer briefs, Bill kissed his way up Elliot’s thighs, and again, Elliot’s heartbeat hummed against his lips. Pausing, Bill found himself licking at the spot, lips brushing over it repeatedly as his thumb spun over Elliot’s clit. It was as if he could  _ hear _ the blood rushing through Elliot’s artery somehow, and Bill caressed his cheek to his thigh, the throbbing warmth strangely comforting and difficult to tear himself away from as he dove forward. 

Long tongue circling Elliot’s clit, Bill’s large hands gripped his hips and dragged him near as he dug his sculpted jaw forward. “ _ Oh Bill, yes! Fuck!” _ Fingers fisting in his dark hair, Elliot rutted against his eager face as Bill consumed him, lapping at his swollen clit before taking it between his lips and sucking intensely. Moans rising, Elliot writhed, heels locking behind Bill’s neck as he hastened his ministrations. “ _ Fuck, Bill! I’m gonna cum! Yes! Fuck!”  _ Thighs shaking, Elliot dripped over Bill’s square chin, eyes rolling as he convulsed beneath him.

Rising and wiping his mouth, Bill gathered Elliot into his arms, kissing him and massaging his back as he came down. Elliot curled himself into the long line of Bill’s body and soon they drifted off to sleep.

Tuesday, after hauling himself around the office, Bill finally gave up and decided to go home after realizing his foggy brain wasn’t going to cooperate. Elliot was still working on a second sketch with Sudeikis, so Bill decided to drop in at the butcher shop on the way home. Wincing at the late afternoon sun as he left Rockefeller Plaza, Bill pulled his hoodie overhead and descended into the relieving darkness of the subway. 

Bell tinkling, Bill stumbled almost immediately upon entering the butcher shop. Hand fumbling at the counter, he had no idea what was happening. It was as if he were intoxicated. A heady, pulsing rush pounded through him as the rich scent of flesh invaded his nostrils.

“You alright man?” Wiping his hands on a cloth, the butcher eyed him suspiciously.

Straightening himself, Bill nodded, blinking wide eyed. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

“Okay…” Leaning on the counter, the man crooked an eyebrow. “Can I help you with something?”

“Yeah, um…” Taking in the displays, Bill pointed at random to a pile of steaks. “Can I get….six of those?”

Nodding, he pulled on a fresh pair of gloves and began wrapping them up. “Anything else?” 

There was something in the room calling to Bill. Following his nose, he made his way down the case, peering inside until he lowered his face and pointed. “What’s that?”

“Blood sausage.” The butcher replied. “Big with some European crowds.”

Nodding insistently, Bill licked his light pink lips. “Give me one—no, two pounds, please.”

Packaging it, Bill paid and found his hands shook as he jogged the parcel of meat back to his apartment. Once inside, Bill unwrapped it and the aroma permeated the air. Lowering his face, Bill caught himself just as he was about to bite into one of the sausages.  _ What the fuck? I can’t eat raw meat. I’ll get sick. _

Rummaging for a frying pan, Bill heated it, tossing the sausages inside, foot tapping impatiently as he watched the skin darken. Giving up after a couple of minutes, he turned them onto a plate and drove a fork inside, filling his mouth with the barely cooked meat and sliding to his kitchen floor in relief. As he polished off a third sausage, and then a fourth, it was as if Bill could think clearly for the first time in days, not even fully aware of the haze he’d been under.

***

Tossing his bag in an empty chair, Elliot grinned at him as he entered. “Hey Bill, how was the rest of your day?” 

“Good.” Bill nodded. Hiding the rest of the blood sausages deep in the freezer, he didn’t want to tell Elliot about his shameful feeding frenzy. “I picked up some steaks on my way home.”

“Oh great, I’ll cook them up now.” Shedding his jacket, Elliot washed his hands and puttered about the kitchen. “Medium well, right?” He called back over his shoulder as he tossed the meat into the cast iron pan.

”Um...could I have mine rare, actually?” Bill asked.

Blinking at him, Elliot shrugged. “Okay then.” 

Serving dinner not long after, Bill found he shoveled the flesh into his gullet despite all the sausages consumed earlier and Elliot smiled. “I’m glad to see you’re eating, Bill.”

Chewing, Bill held a hand in front of his mouth. “Yeah, I was so fucking hungry.”

Taking a second steak, Bill barely picked at the potatoes and carrots, sucking on the bones before allowing them to clatter to his plate. For the first time in days, he felt some semblance of energy returning to his fingertips as he sat back in his chair, sighing in satisfaction.

Doing the dishes as per usual, Bill wiped his fingers on a towel before approaching Elliot from behind, sizable hand sneaking underneath the waistband of his shorts as he took his earlobe in between his teeth. 

“Mmm…” Elliot hummed appreciatively, leaning his head back against Bill. Extending the long line of his swanlike neck, Bill brushed his lips over the sensitive skin, Elliot’s thumping pulse calling to him like a siren. Fingers hastening over his clit, Bill’s half hard cock ground into the crack of his ass as he bit down on Elliot’s neck.

“Ow!” Wincing, Elliot pushed him away. “ _ Fuck,  _ Bill.” He looked at him and rubbed his neck.

“Shit, I’m sorry…” Bill shook his head.

“I mean, you know I like it rough sometimes but that was really hard.” Passing his fingers over his skin again, Elliot grimaced. “I think you almost broke the skin.” Seeing the deep depressions in Elliot’s flesh, a thick coat of guilt settled in Bill’s stomach.

“I’m sorry.” Reaching for Elliot’s hand, Bill blinked. “I just...got caught up, I guess. I’ll be more careful.”

Nodding, Elliot joined his mouth and they walked backward to the bedroom, but after shedding their clothes and crawling into bed together, try as he might, Bill couldn’t get himself beyond half mast and he scowled in agitation. Elliot reassured him it wasn’t a big deal, but to Bill it was, and after coaxing his fingers between Elliot’s legs until he quivered and called out Bill’s name, he laid in bed fuming until his fatigue proved unwinable.

Sun glaring, Bill lifted his hood immediately as he and Elliot went into work on Wednesday. When their sketch did well at the table, Bill was ashamed, wishing Elliot hadn’t added his name since he slept through the entirety of its creation. Lassitude overwhelming, Bill barely made it through the hours-long read and when it was over, Elliot insisted that he go home. Nodding heavily, Bill shuffled out of the building, but as soon as he stepped outside he was struck with a migraine. Struggling with them since childhood, Bill lifted his hoodie to shield himself from the familiar light sensitivity before flagging down a cab and whispering his address as he tried to take slow, deep breaths to soothe the rising nausea.

Stumbling inside, Bill closed the blinds and curtains, slipping under the blankets and pulling them overhead with a groan. It wasn’t until Elliot’s gentle hand rubbed his arm hours later that he stirred. “Bill? Are you okay?”

Grumbling, Bill turned over again. “Got a migraine on the way home. Just wanna sleep.”

“Okay.” Petting his hair, Elliot frowned. “I’ll put some water next to you, alright? Just...just try to feel better and let me know if you need anything.”

Nodding, slumber claimed Bill once more and at some point he vaguely registered Elliot’s body shifting the mattress, but he didn’t stir until Elliot shook his shoulder the next day. “Bill? Bill...it’s time to go to work.”

Pallid and drawn, Bill pulled himself into a seated position, nodding. Barely managing to stand in the shower, Elliot held Bill close, shaking his head. “Bill, I...I’m really worried about you.”

“I’ll be okay.” Bill mumbled faintly before toweling himself off. 

Exiting the apartment, Bill clamped a hand over his eyes, gasping and folding in on himself. “ _ Fuck! _ ”

“Bill!” Elliot held him up. “What’s wrong?”

“Migraine.” Face scrunched, Bill told himself to breathe.

Shaking his head, Elliot hailed a cab. “That’s it, come on. We’re going to urgent care.”

Reluctantly, Bill nodded, allowing Elliot to lead him as they went to the doctor’s. Sitting in the waiting room, hood overhead, Bill slumped low in his chair and tried to ignore the slight shaking that seemed to have started in his hands since he woke up. Meeting with the doctor, Bill explained what had been going on, and the attack, an they ordered an extensive panel of bloodwork, sending him down the hall to the lab.

Standing in line, Bill lifted his tired feet forward and when he entered the room, his large hand gripped the doorframe. Four seats in opposite corners, different patients were all undergoing blood draws and Bill felt that same drunk sensation he experienced in the butcher shop as he eyed the little tubes filling with the sticky crimson liquid. Inhaling, it was almost as if Bill could  _ taste _ the copper on the back of his tongue, though that had to be his imagination. But Bill found as he was led into the room and past the other patients, that something in him got a hint of different  _ flavors _ as he stared longingly at the flexed forearms under the rubber ties.

Nurse wiping his inner elbow, Bill watched as she searched for his vein, having particular difficulty and having to poke him three times before she managed. Strangely, the sight of his own blood did nothing for him, but when the nurse turned and Bill saw the rows of unguarded vials, the urge to snatch a handful was nearly insatiable.  _ What the fuck is happening? _

Meeting Elliot in the lobby, Bill told him they would have his results in a day or two and Elliot took him back home, forcing Bill into bed and saying he would cover for him at work. Out all day, when Elliot got home he informed Bill that their sketch made the cut. Bill knew that no matter how awful he felt he would have to power through tomorrow and Saturday. Usually his anxiety kept him awake from Thursday all the way through the wrap of the live show, but barely able to hold his eyelids open, Bill seriously worried he might drift off on camera


	2. 2

At rehearsal on Friday, white and trembling, everyone kept asking Bill if he was alright and he waved them away, saying he thought he was coming down with the flu, hoping that would assuage their worries. By the time he got to dress rehearsal on Saturday, the combination of his weak body and typical pre-show jitters had Bill quaking to the point that his dialogue came out tremulous and his hollow eyed facial expressions appeared manic, makeup barely able to cover his sunken cheeks and pasty skin. 

Sneaking into his dressing room, often Elliot would visit Bill before the taping and they would discreetly fool around, finding that an orgasm greatly alleviated Bill’s anxiety before he had to hit the stage. But today, cold sweat glistening over his white skin, Bill shook his head, lip quivering. “I don’t…” Swallowing hard, he blinked. “I don’t want to go out there, Elliot.”

“I know, Bill.” Taking him into his arms, Elliot massaged his back, alarmed at how Bill shivered beneath him. “And if…” Elliot paused, pressing a kiss to the top of Bill’s head. “If you need to stop. If you need to quit, walk out of here right now. That’s okay. You know I’ll love you no matter what, right?”

Shaking his head, Bill clutched Elliot’s arm. “No.” Head starting to pound, Bill blinked. “I...I can do it. I’ll get through it.” Breath coming hard and fast, Elliot lifted Bill’s head, forcing his oceanic eyes to meet his own.

“Look at me, Bill. Let’s breathe, okay?” Placing a hand on Bill’s solar plexus, Elliot guided him. “Alright, inhale on a count of four…” He counted, demonstrating. “Hold for a count of seven. One, two…” Bill fought to keep up, but the panic made it difficult. “Okay, and slowly, slowly, exhale on eight. One, two, three…” Exhaling, they repeated a few times, but unfortunately Bill wasn’t reassured and the edges of his vision were starting to waver. 

As places were called, things grew hazy and Bill frantically groped for the person next to him, discovering Sudeikis. “Hey...hey, buddy, um…”

“Bill, Bill, man are you okay?”

“No.” Bill shook his head. “I’m...I’m having a migraine and...I can’t see anything.” Blinking, Bill’s dark blue eyes looked sightlessly around the studio.

“Oh shit.” Jason scratched the back of his head. “You know what?” Curling his arm around Bill, he nodded. “I got you, man. I’m going to lead you out to your mark, alright? You just say your lines and I’ll bring you right back.”

Nodding, and instantly regretting it as it made his head throb violently, Bill squeezed Jason’s arm. “Thanks. I, um…” Mouth hanging open, Bill attempted to take slow breaths. “I seriously might throw up out there, man.”

“If you do…” Jason shrugged, rubbing his shoulder. “People will probably laugh, anyway.”

Thanks to Jason, Bill got on stage and even though he had no idea if he was even facing the right direction, he delivered his lines. By some virtue of the comedy gods, Bill made it through the show, and as the audience clapped Jason guided him away into Elliot’s arms.

“Bill? Bill, oh my goodness…” Shaking his head, Elliot took him about the waist and slowly walked Bill back to his dressing room. Getting Bill on the couch, he folded himself into Elliot’s arms.

“I don’t...I don’t now what’s wrong with me…” Voice thick, Bill shook his head, fingers clinging to Elliot’s shirt. “I...I feel like I’m so bad at my job.” Shuddering, tears trickled from Bill’s sapphire eyes and Elliot held him tightly as his fragile body was wracked with sobs.

“Oh Bill, no, no…” Shaking his head, Elliot planting a kiss atop Bill’s head. “You’re wonderful. It’s just anxiety and whatever this...this thing is that’s been going on the past week. Hopefully we’ll hear back from the doctor soon and it’ll all get sorted out.” Tucking into him, Elliot kissed Bill’s cheek and after calming a little, Bill sniffed, nodding.

“Yeah, maybe…” Turning into Elliot, Bill blinked his eyes, still barely registering moving light and brushed a kiss to Elliot’s neck. Pulse resounding like a gong through the entirety of his being, a yearning Bill never experienced rose in him, calling to him from the depths, singing one word in an alluring, demanding voice: feed. 

Large hand taking the opposite side of Elliot’s head, Bill’s teeth sank into his neck and he released a deep, guttural groan as his mouth flowed with hot, glutinous blood.

“Bill?! Bill!” Shrieking, Elliot pushed against him but his voice was a distant whisper as every fiber of Bill alighted, eyesight returning, room coming into detailed focus, Elliot’s scent invading his nostrils, his shampoo, his cologne, even what he had for lunch immediately apparent as Bill’s senses heightened. Bill could hear conversations taking place far down the hall, distant laughter and a softly closing door, shuffling footsteps. Even a bus grinding to a halt eight floors below their open window, the door squeaking closed as it took on new passengers.

“BILL!” Elliot screamed, fist colliding with the side of Bill’s head as he threw all his weight behind it. Knocking Bill loose, Elliot scrambled away from him, wide eyed and breathing hard as he clutched a hand to his neck.

Rising, Bill saw the terror on Elliot’s face and shook his head, swallowing. “Elliot, I...I’m sorry, I don’t…” 

“Bill…” Elliot lifted a shaking hand. “Your...your teeth…” 

Hand touching his mouth, when he looked at it Bill’s fingers were red and he was sickened as his eyes shifted to Elliot’s bleeding neck. Turning to his dressing room mirror, Bill glanced at himself and his arms fell limp at his side.

Fangs. Bill had fangs. Approaching his reflection, he touched his teeth. Certainly it was some manifestation of his anxiety. A hallucination. But he couldn’t deny how he hurt Elliot, and as he wiped his light pink lips clean, Bill saw the extended canines slowly retracting.

Facing Elliot, Bill walked toward him and Elliot backed against the wall, shaking his head. “Fuck.” Bill dropped his face, covering his eyes. 

Chest heaving, the punctures on Elliot’s neck were trickling down to the collar of his shirt as he stared warily at Bill. “What...what the fuck is happening, Bill?”

Shaking his head, Bill sat on the couch, leaning his elbows on his knees and puffing out his cheeks. “I honestly don’t know, but…” Running a hand over his mouth, Bill closed his eyes. “The idea that I hurt you.” Bill’s voice came out high and irregular, his throat tightening. “That...that you’re afraid of me. I can’t…” Laying back, Bill looked to the ceiling, blinking rapidly. Quiet for a moment, Bill gritted his teeth and every muscle in his sharp jaw jumped. “I don’t know if this is…” He gestured to his chest. “But if it means I...if it means I’m going to be, you know, dangerous to you…” Wiping his eyes, Bill swallowed hard. “I don’t think I can live with it.”

Seeing his distress, Elliot took a shaky breath. “Well, maybe...maybe there’s some sort of...a cure or something…”

“Elliot…” Bill swiveled his head to him, face serious. “I don’t know about you, but everything I’ve ever read says there’s only one cure for this.” Finger tapping above his heart, Bill raised his eyebrows in defeat.

“But…” Elliot shook his head frantically. “Bill, no, maybe...maybe this is different, I mean…” Swallowing, he gestured to the mirror. “You have a reflection, right? So maybe it’s not...that.”

Covering his face with both of his hands, Bill sighed. “I just drank your fucking blood, Elliot. And for the first time since those guys attacked me…” Bill let his arms fall. “I feel like I’m functioning again. So…” He shrugged. “I don’t know what else it could be.”

Rubbing his elbow with the opposite hand, Elliot took a cautious step closer to Bill. “Well...there has to be...we can...I mean, you know I love you, Bill.” Meeting his stormy blue eyes, Elliot shifted his weight. “I’m not going to let you...whatever you’re thinking, that’s not the solution to this. We’ll figure it out.”

“How?” Eyes pleading, Bill stared back at Elliot and he timidly came to join him on the couch. Bill found he had to tear his gaze away from Elliot’s neck, droplets still falling from the holes.

“Well…” Elliot took Bill’s hand, interlacing their fingers. “I’ve read that people can lose a...up to a pint of blood and be okay, right? So...so maybe if we’re careful. We can...we can make it work.”

Bill shook his head. “I don’t like that, El. If you hadn’t punched me back there, I don’t know if I would’ve been able to stop myself…”

“Yeah, but…” Shrugging, Elliot leaned back on the couch, and, unable to stand the sight anymore, Bill snagged a couple of tissues from a box and pressed them over his neck. “Oh, thank you.” Elliot held them in place. “I was gonna say, you hadn’t, you know, eaten or whatever in a week. So maybe...maybe if we did it regularly. Just a little at a time. You’d be able to control yourself.”

“And, um…” Squeezing his fingers, Bill’s nose flared. “If I can’t?” 

Silent for a moment, Elliot looked to their joined hands. “Well...then I guess it’ll be good we both have a job where we work primarily at night.” He shrugged and Bill let out a hopeless chuckle. “Come on, let’s go home.” 

Nodding, Bill changed out of his costume and gave Elliot his hoodie to hide his neck before they left. When they got back to the apartment, Elliot cleaned his injury, bandaging it before joining Bill in bed. Fingers tracing over Elliot’s features, Bill studied him.

“You really think there’s a chance this’ll be okay?”

Elliot ran a hand down Bill’s arm. “I honestly don’t know, Bill. But I’m willing to try.”

Scooting forward, Bill joined their lips, hand fisting in Elliot’s hair and as soon as Elliot’s tongue snuck past his teeth, Bill’s cock thickened rapidly beneath his boxers for the first time in a week. Rolling on top of him, Bill’s hand snaked down to grab a handful of Elliot’s ass as he ground his erection into the heat between Elliot’s thighs, soft mewls rising in his throat.

After a week without him, Bill’s hands crawled over Elliot, dipping insistently beneath his underwear and twirling his clit furiously as he continued to rub against his thigh. “Fuck, I missed you so much, El.” Bill breathed, tongues knitting together as Elliot rutted into his hand. 

“Me too, Bill.” Panting into his open mouth, Elliot tugged lightly on his long brunette hair. “Fuck me.”

Nodding hurriedly, Bill scrambled in the bedside stand for a condom, leaning back on his ankles to peel off Elliot’s boxer briefs before slithering out of his own. Applying the condom to himself, he swiped the head of his cock over Elliot’s entrance a couple of times before surging forward with a hiss of relief.

“Ah fuck, El, you feel so good.” Bill groaned, starting to swivel his hips as Elliot’s hands buried themselves in his hair. Fingers tiptoeing between Elliot’s legs, Bill began fiddling his clit in time with his movements, but as he thrust forward, a storm grew in the base of his stomach. “Um, El?” Licking his lips, Bill nestled his cheek against him.

“Yeah, Bill?” Elliot breathed, kissing along his crisp jawline.

“I just…” Releasing a soft moan, Bill tried to keep his lips off of Elliot’s neck and went for his cheek instead. “I just want to fuck you really hard. Is that okay?”

“Yeah.” Elliot nodded insistently. “Do it, Bill. Fuck me hard.”

Face transforming into a mischievous grin, Bill’s dark blue eyes sparkled as he hooked one of Elliot’s legs over his shoulder, coming up on a knee before beginning to recklessly pound him. Pelvis rising to meet Bill’s every stroke, Elliot held onto Bill’s broad shoulders, unholy noises rattling from his voice box as Bill’s cock drove deep inside. “Oh fuck, Bill! Yes! Fuck me! Don’t stop!”

“Yeah, you like that?” Speaking through gritted teeth, Bill wasn’t sure what came over him as he hammered into Elliot, headboard denting the wall. “You like when I fuck you hard, huh? Huh?” 

Heels scrambling, Elliot fluttered around Bill’s cock, nails digging into his flesh. “Fuck, Bill! Yes! I love it! Yes!”

“Yeah, take it!” Bill cried, ramming into Elliot with such force that a picture of the two of them backstage hanging on the wall shattered to the floor. “Take my cock! Are you gonna cum for me? Huh? Are you gonna cum on my cock? I fucking love making you cum. Do it! Cum for me, El! Cum for me!”

Screaming, Elliot constricted around his cock, back arching as he convulsed. “Fuck! Bill! I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” Elliot gasped, eyes rolling as he folded into Bill.

With a strangled whimper, Bill let down his leg, forehead resting against Elliot’s as he tried to capture his mouth in uncoordinated kisses. Large hands roaming, it was as if he were trying to pull every piece of Elliot into himself at the same time as his hips humped desperately. “Fuck, El! I love you! Yes! Fuck! FUCK!” Whining, Bill’s body juddered forth erratically, face scrunched and soft lips hanging open before he shivered and fell still atop Elliot’s sweaty form.

Hand caressing the small of Bill’s back, Elliot kissed his neck. “Fuck, I missed you.”

Pushing back Elliot’s sweaty hair, Bill scanned his face. “That wasn’t too much?”

“Not at all.” Elliot chuckled, lightly rocking his pelvis upward as Bill remained inside of him. “Very hot.”

“Okay, just wanted to make sure.” Giving him a brief kiss, Bill held Elliot close for a moment before rolling off and discarding the condom, careful to avoid the broken glass as he swung by the kitchen and grabbed the broom, slipping on his sneakers. 

Watching Bill sweep and pick up the destroyed picture frame, completely nude, was endearing and Elliot suppressed a chuckle. “What?” Bill turned to him, dustpan in hand.

“Nothing.” Elliot lifted a shoulder. “Just suddenly very tempted to get you a saucy french maid’s outfit.”

Rolling his eyes, Bill giggled, bringing the shards to the kitchen trash before hopping back in bed with Elliot. Arms snaking around one another, Elliot tucked his head underneath Bill’s and though for once he wasn’t tired, Bill was comfortable as Elliot’s breathing slowed and he listened to the sounds of the night come alive around him.

Drifting off sometime before rays of sunlight peeked around their blinds, Bill didn’t notice when Elliot got up to shower and make breakfast. Rising early in the afternoon, Bill popped in to ruffle Elliot’s hair and give him a kiss before showering and pulling on a tshirt and fresh pair of boxers. Bill sank next to Elliot on the couch. Sundays were their favorites, their only free day in a hectic week and without fail they spent it doing absolutely nothing. 

Leaning against Bill, Elliot reached up to scratch under his chin. “You hungry? I made frittatas.” Bill’s blue eyes slid away and he shifted uncomfortably. “Oh.” Elliot said softly. “I mean...if you’re...if you’re hungry…” Swallowing, Elliot placed his hands on the cushion and sat up. “You know, I think it’s best if we don’t put it off. If we wait, I...it’ll probably just be harder for you to stop, like...like last night.”

Folding his hands in his lap, Bill chewed on his lip. “You’re sure about this, El?”

Taking his hand, Elliot squeezed. “We have to at least try, Bill.”

Blinking, Bill thought for a moment. “Okay but…” Getting up, he went to the hall closet, rummaging in the back before returning with a steel bat and passing it to Elliot. “If I won’t let go…”

“Oh, Bill, I…” Eyes wide, Elliot shook his head. “I don’t think I could hit you with that.”

Holding it out insistently, Bill clenched his jaw. “Please, El. If...If I hurt you, I’ll never forgive myself.”

Hesitantly accepting, Elliot nodded and Bill sat next to him on the couch. “Alright, so…” hand resting on Elliot’s shoulder, he tipped forward, but Elliot stopped him.

“Wait…is there...is there somewhere else you could bite, maybe?” Elliot’s emerald eyes questioned. “I don’t want to have to wear scarves and turtlenecks forever.” He smirked.

“Oh right, um…” Considering, Bill remembered the other night. “Your thigh, the, uh…” Snapping, Bill closed his eyes trying to remember. “Femoral artery, right? Yeah. That should work, if it’s okay with you.”

“Um, alright…” Elliot nodded. He stood, shrugging off his boxer briefs. Laying back on the couch, he spread his legs, gripping the bat.

“Okay.” Bill lowered himself. “Remember, if I don’t stop…”

“Alright.” Elliot blinked.

Taking his hand, Bill looked at him carefully. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah. Yeah, go ahead.”

Light pink lips dancing over Elliot’s flesh, Bill instantly found the ideal spot. This time he could sense the fangs emerging from his gums before he opened his mouth. Trying to be as delicate as possible, Bill pierced Elliot’s skin and when he heard a squeak of discomfort above him his heart clenched as the rich scarlet liquid poured over his tongue.

As he fed, Bill’s cock throbbed between his legs and though he hated himself for being aroused by the act, he couldn’t help but moan as Elliot’s essence flowed into him, his large hands traveling over his skin, fingers gliding in between his lips to tenderly touch his clit as he sucked.

Surprised, Elliot looked between his legs. “Oh...oh alright.” Blinking, Elliot tentatively placed a hand on Bill’s scalp, wending his fingers through his chestnut waves as Bill penetrated him with three long fingers and curled upwards, pulsing vigorously as his thumb raced over Elliot’s clit while he drank.

Panting, Elliot’s body began squirming underneath Bill and with his free hand he anchored his thigh, Elliot’s blood shooting into his mouth now as his orgasm threatened and his heartbeat raced. 

“Oh fuck, Bill! I’m gonna cum!” Head pressing into the arm of the couch, Elliot’s mouth hung open and he tightened around Bill’s fingers. But just as he crossed the precipice, body quaking and Bill’s fingers shiny with the evidence of his desire, Elliot’s vision grew foggy and his head light. Elliot pulled at Bill’s hair in a panic. “Fuck, Bill! You have to stop. Now!”

Thankfully hearing him clearly this time, Bill detached, licking his lips and rising. Peering around, Bill left Elliot for a moment and went to the kitchen, grabbing a couple of paper towels and holding them firmly to the leaking holes in his leg as Elliot sought oxygen. 

Bill knelt, hand to Elliot’s face. “Are you alright?”

Glancing up at him, Bill’s lips were stained red, his skin ghostly and as Elliot reached up to card his fingers through his dark hair, he found his beauty ethereal. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

“You’re sure?” Bill’s deep blue eyes were pools of worry and Elliot drew him near, the coppery taste of himself passing between them as he linked with Bill’s mouth. 

“Yeah. I’m alright.” He smiled.

“Okay.” Resting his head on Elliot’s shoulder as he sat back on his heels, Bill traced his fingers over his collarbone. “Can I get you anything?”

Shrugging, Elliot polished his prominent cheekbone. “Orange juice?”

“You got it.” Bill kissed his cheek, returning a moment later with a glass and a box of crackers. 

As Elliot sat up, slowly eating and drinking, Bill shuffled in behind him on the couch, arms and legs wrapping around him squid-like as he resting his chin on Elliot’s shoulder. “I love you, you know that?”

Swallowing, Elliot brushed crumbs from his lips before he turned back, smiling and kissing the corner of Bill’s mouth. “I love you, too, Bill.”

***

Over the next couple of weeks, it took a bit of maneuvering, but Bill and Elliot found a workable system. Bill would feed on Elliot every day or two, and he found that was enough to keep his brain and body working. Still, Bill grew slender, cheekbones and jawline sharpening, and when people noticed, he simply said he was trying a new diet. Which, technically, was true as by that point Bill lost almost all interest in regular fare.

Elliot, in the meantime, was popping double doses of iron supplements and eating three times as much red meat as normal. Saying he didn’t mind the extra effort, Bill was still worried when one day he caught a close look at him in the daylight and noticed how thin Elliot’s skin appeared. Bill was able to be in the sun, he found, but if he stayed out for more than an hour a migraine would crash over him, so sunglasses were slung over his collar wherever he went. Frowning at Elliot’s vulnerable visage, Bill tried to find other solutions. Buying up the entirety of the shop’s stock of blood sausage, he felt incredibly awkward asking, but told the butcher he wanted to make blood sausage of his own, and did he perhaps, maybe, if-it-wasn’t-too-much-trouble, have any extra blood lying around?

The man stared at him for a while, but eventually nodded, saying Bill could come back tomorrow and he would give him some, no charge. Three large containers sloshing about in a plastic bag, Bill flashed to a recent episode of one of his favorite true crime shows, imagining he fit right in with the plethora of weirdos as he got home and raised the container of cold cow’s blood to his lips.

The taste was vaguely unpleasant. Something in him told Bill he shouldn’t be drinking it, like sipping spoiled milk, but he persisted, determined to give Elliot at least one extra day off per week before placing the leftovers in the fridge.

On a Wednesday when Bill was stuck late writing a sketch with someone else and Elliot left hours earlier, he came home to find him curled on the couch, watching Conan under a blanket. “Hey Bill.” He called out, shifting to make room for him.

The scent of blood filled Bill’s nostrils as he crossed the threshold and it was as if the lines of the room grew clearer as he took a step forward. “Elliot…” Sniffing, Bill narrowed his eyes. “Did...did you cook something?”

“No.” Elliot blinked. “Why, are you hungry?”

“Then did you cut yourself or something?” Looking him over, Bill sat down. “Because I smell...blood.”

“Oh…” Glancing away uncomfortably, Elliot folded his knees under himself. “Shit, um...yeah. It’s...it’s shark week, Bill.”

‘Shark week’ as Elliot informed Bill early on in their relationship, was a term used by himself and many members of the transmasculine community to describe their menstrual cycles. When Bill first heard it and narrowed his eyes in confusion, Elliot explained. “Well, it can be a little dysphoric to say things like ‘period’ for some folks. I don’t know who came up with it, but we started calling it shark week. You know…” He shrugged. “Blood in the water.” Bill giggled endlessly, finding it a remarkably clever work around for something he knew Elliot hated and had to face regardless.

Trying to focus on Conan’s comedic stylings, Bill found he couldn’t take in any of the program as his eyes slid over to Elliot and he licked his lips. “Hey, um…” Fingers tickling over his leg, Bill cleared his throat. “You...you wouldn’t let me go down on you, would you? Maybe?”

Breath hitching, Elliot turned to him wide eyed. Typically during this time, Elliot kept his distance. Sure, he would sometimes let Bill slide a hand between his legs in the shower, but otherwise he spent the days generously going down on him as he silently dealt with the cramps and bloating while Bill brought home chocolates and massaged his back before he went to sleep.

Mouth working open and closed in silence for a moment, Elliot’s hands fidgeted in his lap. “I...that’s something you really want to do, Bill?”

Nodding, Bill swallowed and his cerulean eyes pierced him. “Desperately.”

Squirming a little, Elliot looked off to the side. “Well...I mean...okay, then. I…” He nodded slowly. “I haven’t really talked about it before, and maybe you know this already, but, people get really, you know...turned on...during this time of the month…”

“Really?” Bill blinked.

“Yeah.” Elliot nodded. “It’s unfortunate, really. But it’s because your testosterone levels are at their highest, so…” Lifting his hands, he shook his head. “You just get really fucking horny and it sucks.”

“Wow.” Turning down the corners of his mouth appraisingly, Bill tilted his head. “I had no idea.” Stroking Elliot’s leg, he bit his lip. “So…bedroom?”

“Okay…” Standing, Elliot took a few steps, then paused. “Wait, are you going to be able to cover your teeth?”

“Oh yeah, that won’t be a problem.” Bill discovered about a week earlier that with concentration, he could retract and spring his fangs at will. They were all gathered around singing happy birthday in the office for Kristen when Amy, slicing the cake, made a small nick in her thumb. Blood hitting the air, Bill’s mouth was open in laughter when his canines began to extend and he snapped his mouth shut, eyes darting around nervously. Excusing himself through tight lips, he went to the bathroom and found that by thinking of the smell of cooking onions and the taste of lemon juice, of all things, they slid back up into his gums.

Nodding, Elliot padded to the bathroom. “Alright, um...I’m just going to get a towel...for...for the sheets.”

Elliot chose their rattiest one, returning from the bathroom and laying it over the mattress. Self consciously he started to lower his boxer briefs, then paused. “Oh, wait, um...be right back.” Disappearing to the bathroom once more, when he came back he was bottomless, underwear in hand. Carefully positioning himself over the towel Elliot rested back, legs together. Having undressed in his absence, Bill nestled naked on the lower half of the bed, gently guiding his knees apart.

“Are you okay?” He asked, caressing Elliot’s thigh.

Giving a brief nod, Elliot’s body was stiff. “Yeah...yeah, it’s just a little weird.”

Shifting to join him at the top of the bed, Bill lowered his mouth, lips moving against Elliot’s languidly as his hands trickled over his arms, his abdomen, his face. Elliot cupped his strong jaw, other hand flowing over Bill’s shoulder as he remained flat and pulled him close. Resting back, Bill combed back Elliot’s hair. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” Elliot smiled. 

Kissing his way down Elliot’s body, Bill spread his thighs once more and stared into the dripping sanguine wetness before him. Diving forward, Bill typically started slow, coaxing Elliot to the cliffs of desire, but the taste of him, Elliot’s natural juices combined with the robust flavor of blood was overwhelming. Hooking his hands underneath Elliot’s legs, Bill snatched his pelvis to his face, lapping greedily and moaning as he bore forward with his chiseled jaw. 

“Oh...oh fuck, Bill!” Practically sitting up in bed at the sudden stimulation, Elliot’s hands clasped Bill’s scalp as his heels dragged over his broad back. Collapsing against the pillow, Elliot craned his neck, pelvis writhing into Bill’s voracious tongue as he moaned.

“Fuck, Bill! Fuck! That’s so good!” Sucking Elliot’s clit between his lips, Bill’s tongue flicked forward and the anxious tip twirled into every fold as he licked Elliot clean. Screaming above him, Bill grew aroused by Elliot’s noises and snuck a hand down to tug on his thick cock.

Shamelessly humping his face, Elliot tore at Bill’s hair, body thrashing and mouth agape. “Fuck! I’m cumming! Yes! Fuck!” Seizing like a man possessed, Elliot cried out Bill’s name again and again. Seeking sustenance, Bill lowered his mouth to Elliot’s opening and, thumb positioned over his clit and spiraling, Bill inhaled him. For Elliot the sensation was strange at first, but not unpleasant as Bill’s lengthy tongue swirled inside. 

Slurping rapaciously, Elliot once again tensed above him, tossing his head from side to side as tremors tore through him and he shrieked. Bill showing no sign of stopping, a weary Elliot tapped him on the shoulder. “Bill…”

Popping up, Bill licked his lips. “What?” Chin drenched in blood, a dot on his nose and a streak across his elegant cheekbone, Bill’s blue eyes glittered wildly as he looked up at him. 

“I…that’s enough for me for today I think.” Pushing back Bill’s hair, Elliot swallowed, slightly nervous at the hungry expression on his face. “If you keep going I’ll get overstimulated.”

“Oh.” Bill nodded. “Okay, no problem.” Shuffling to the top of the bed, Bill went in for a kiss and Elliot placed a hand on his chest. 

“Bill...your face.”

Touching a hand to his lips, when his fingers came away red Bill frowned. “Oh yeah, right. Sorry.” Bill went to the bathroom to wash and Elliot was close behind, cleaning between his legs and putting in a new tampon before pulling on a fresh pair of underwear and returning to bed with Bill.

Claiming his lips, Elliot pushed Bill onto his back, hand wedging between them to jerk his cock. “Mmm...Bill, I wanna suck you so badly.”

Chuckling, Bill’s sizable hands passed over Elliot’s ass. “I like the sound of that.” He grinned. 

Shimmying down Bill’s body, Elliot wrapped his lips around the wide head of Bill’s cock, catching the dewdrop of precum on his tongue before he whipped it around and sank down. Hollowing his cheeks, Elliot yanked Bill’s shaft into his mouth as he bobbed, Bill’s fingers working their way into his sandy hair as he began tilting his hips forward. “Mmm...fuck. Yeah, El. Just like that.”

Sheathing Bill’s thick cock as far as he could manage, Elliot undulated the muscles of his throat, free hand rolling his balls between his fingers as Bill began thrusting into his face and guiding his head. “Oh fuck, El, yes!” Bill gasped, pelvis rolling forward. “Suck me! Fuck! Yes!” Removing one of his hands from his head, Bill tapped Elliot’s shoulder. “El...fingers. Please…”

Cock falling from his mouth with a pop, Elliot nodded, hurriedly scrambling for the lube in their bedside stand as Bill wriggled on the mattress. Spreading it sloppily over his hand and Bill’s hole, he met his needy blue eyes. “How many?”

“Two.” Bill nodded insistently. 

No matter how many times he saw it, Elliot loved the sight of Bill’s body absorbing his fingers as he penetrated him, flicking upward and hitting his prostate as he swallowed his cock once more. “Fuck! Fuck, yeah! Keep going!” Rotating himself, Bill drove down on Elliot’s fingers and up into his mouth, seeking both the warm wetness and the delicious internal friction. 

Beautiful sounds tumbled from Bill’s sweet lips, keening whimpers interlaced with throaty moans and the occasional high, stuttered whine as Elliot sensed his cock throbbing beneath his tongue. “Fuck! I’m gonna fucking cum, El! Fuck! FUCK!” Shoving his head down, Bill buried himself in the back of Elliot’s throat, hot cum shooting past his tongue as Bill’s hips jumped and his left eye ceaselessly twitched.

Releasing Elliot’s head, he rose, wiping his eyes and mouth, kissing his way up Bill’s ivory skin, fingers dancing through his sweaty hair as they smiled at one another. Arms landing at Elliot’s waist, Bill beamed at him. “I love you, El.”

“I love you, too, Bill.” Grinning, Elliot gave Bill a soft kiss before spinning in his arms, snuggling against him as Bill pulled the covers up. As sleep overtook Elliot, his heartbeat radiating through his back and into Bill’s chest, he tightened the circle of his arms around him, brushing a kiss to the nape of his neck. Though Bill didn’t know what the future might hold, or even how long an existence he might have to look forward to, as he breathed in Elliot’s scent he knew the man he loved would be there to stand beside him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read! If you enjoyed this, please leave a comment or come say hi on tumblr at fandomtransmandom. I also take requests!


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